


twinkle twinkle, you little shit

by Remy (iamremy)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Humor, Idiots in Love, Kidfic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Sexual Tension, giftfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/Remy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles, the kindergarten TA, and Derek, the Hale twins' Hot Dad. There is no way this is ending well. And not just because those kids are fucking <em>demons</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	twinkle twinkle, you little shit

**Author's Note:**

> My bae [Sheza](http://shezzaisme.tumblr.com/) gave me some pickup lines she found on tumblr and _demanded_ a fic. I'm a shithead so I wrote this three months late, but we're all humans and we make mistakes and I FINISHED IT, IS WHAT MATTERS, OKAY.
> 
> Featuring Stiles the TA, Derek the Hot Dad, devil twins, Allison the long-suffering teacher, and Scott and Liam the very supportive, totally not annoying best friends. Also misunderstandings. Those are always fun.
> 
> Betaed by the amazing [Renae](http://agentshnucumbs.tumblr.com/).

Being a TA has its perks. Sure, it's not like many people consider it to be a real job, or the fact that Stiles _knows_ he can do something more with his life, or how all his friends are moving on and getting engaged and he's stuck with screaming children and single as hell – but whatever. Perks.

Like hot parents.

He's been single for far too long, okay? No judging. Besides, it's not like he hits on them. Actively. He just... makes references and phrases things a certain way. Just for fun, of course. Most of them are married as hell, and there's no way he's going for that. Inappropriate he may be but a homewrecker he is not.

“Morning,” he chirps at Erica Reyes as she settles her daughter in her seat. “How goes it, Erica?”

She smirks at him. “No,” she says.

He gapes. “I didn't even say anything!”

“Yet,” she appends, and kisses her daughter's forehead before looking pointedly at Stiles. “If I hear of anything, _anything_ , upsetting Sara, I will _end_ you.”

He's not scared of her. He's _not_. She's just... persuasive. And she looks like the kind of person who'd laugh over his corpse. He supposes it's the red lipstick and all the leather.

Okay, maybe he's a _little_ scared. But also a little turned on. Not that he's going to do anything about that. He's even more terrified of her husband Boyd than he is of her.

“Update your will,” she tells him, before grinning frighteningly and making for the door.

“Bye, Mommy!” Sara calls out.

“Bye, baby,” Erica says, and her smile is wistful at the idea of her kid's first day of school. “Keep an eye on Uncle Stiles, okay?” she says, keeping it light for the sake of the kid.

Stiles rolls his eyes and mouths “keep an eye” behind Erica's back, making a face. Sara, of course, immediately pipes up, “He's making faces at you, Mommy!”

The little demon.

“Boyd will be over to pick her up,” Erica informs Stiles, and her tone of voice is a little too sweet for his liking. The kind of sweet that promises humiliation and maybe pain. He makes a mental note never to cross Sara Boyd. She's definitely the most devilish child he's ever seen, and he's seen many.

He sighs and sinks down in his chair. The teacher, Allison, isn't here yet. Beacon Hills being a small town and everything, he knows her. She's his best pal Scott's girlfriend, but he's only really talked to her once or twice. Any other time Scott has his tongue down her throat, and Stiles usually leaves once that happens because _gross_. He does _not_ need to know what his best friend looks like when he's being groped.

It also may or may not have something to do with his irrational fear that he's never going to find anyone who'll want to put up with him, and he's going to die sad and single with a thousand cats.

More parents keep filing in with their kids. Stiles helps them settle their kids in, and then stands awkwardly to the side as there are goodbye hugs and kisses exchanged. One would think the parents were going off to fight a war, but Stiles isn't going to judge. He supposes if he had to be separated from Luke he'd cry too.

A very painful five minutes occur where Lydia's settling her son in his seat next to Sara and he's stuck making small talk with Jackson, pointedly looking anywhere but at Lydia. Jackson is an epic douchecanoe when he wants to be, and Stiles isn't going to put it past him to bring up his ten-year-long crush on her at any time. He really doesn't want the entire class knowing he had a thing for Leo Whittemore's mom.

Eventually they leave too, when Leo's back is turned. That's a bad sign, parents creeping out when their kid isn't watching. It means the kid is overly attached and will throw a tantrum when he realizes his mom and dad aren't nearby, and Stiles is _so_ not looking forward to that.

Allison arrives five minutes before the bell, her hair a little messy and clothes somewhat rumpled, and Stiles can only assume she and Scott got a bit... _distracted_ as he dropped her off. “Sorry I'm late,” she apologizes breathlessly before he can call her out on it, dumping her purse on the desk and beaming around at the children. “So – are we all here today?”

Stiles decides to let it go, checks the list, and shakes his head at Allison. “Nope, Matthew and Julia Hale aren't here yet.”

Allison frowns, but before she can say anything the door to the classroom bursts open and the hottest creature Stiles has ever seen stumbles in, almost tripping over the feet of the two children with him. “Sorry I'm late!” he gasps, almost pushing the kids into the only two available seats left.

Stiles gapes, but Allison, bless her, remains calm and collected. “Matthew and Julia Hale?” she asks, and the hot dude nods.

“Yeah,” he says, and he seems to have gotten some of his breath back. “Sorry, we were late leaving home because _someone_ ,”he pauses and glares mock-seriously at the kids, “ _wouldn't go to the bathroom_.”

Allison smiles. “Nah, that's okay. Just – try to be earlier next time?”

He nods. “Sorry,” he says one more time, and shit, to Stiles it sounds like an angel talking. Hot _and_ has manners? Jackpot.

Okay, so maybe being single for too long has drastically reduced his criteria for perfect date material. What the fuck ever. No judging, remember?

He stumbles over and grins stupidly at the hot dad. “Totally not an issue, dude,” he says, and makes a big show of settling Matthew and Julia Hale in their seats. The hot guy nods gratefully at him, but doesn't seem to notice him more than that. Sad, but Stiles is willing to give it time. He's got to notice Stiles's amazing personality and stunning good looks _eventually_ , right?

Allison scowls at him, like she knows what he's thinking. He sticks his tongue at her when he's sure the kids aren't looking, but it doesn't really work – some of them begin giggling. Shit.

Her look promises retribution, but she smiles blindingly at Hot Dad and says, “Have a nice day, Mr. Hale!”

“Derek,” Hot Dad tells her. He raises his hand to wave at the kids, and Stiles notices the very prominent ring that's _not_ on his finger. Good. He's single.

“No,” Allison hisses at Stiles the moment the door closes after Hot Da– Derek. “Do _not_ hit on the hot dad.”

“I will hit on the hot dad,” he promises her.

She sighs and rolls her eyes before turning to the class.

* * *

Stiles should have seen it coming, the partnership of the Hale twins with Leo Whittemore and Sara Boyd. Of course the most devilish kids in the class stick together. The problem is that they're all cute as hell, with their round cheeks and wide eyes, and Stiles can't find it within himself to tell them off when they start chucking around glitter.

It's especially adorable when at lunch time they decide to share without anyone having to tell them to do so – they just put their little brown bags on one table and eat a bit of everything. Stiles is pretty sure ignoring other kids in order to coo over four demons is kind of frowned upon, but he doesn't care. The only downside to this is that Derek Hale, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd will have to deal with Jackson Whittemore on playdates. That's the one thing Stiles isn't envious of.

He's exhausted but happy at the end of the day, when it's time for the kids to go home. He waves bye to Leo, who's taken such an instant liking to him it makes him suspicious (no child of Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore should be this _nice_ to him), pats Sara's head as she leaves and ducks before she can poke him in the side (stupid fucking Boyd _had_ to tell her about his ticklish spots) and then grins at the Hales, who are the last kids left.

“Looks like Derek's late again,” he says to them.

Matt makes a face. “He's _always_ late.”

Allison sighs, and smiles at the kids. “Maybe you two should wake him up in the morning.”

A positively terrifying grin unfurls on Julia's face, and Stiles represses a shudder. He makes a mental note to put Allison on his _Do_ _ **Not**_ _Cross Ever_ list.

It's sad that there are so many people on that list.

Derek arrives ten minutes later, looking flustered. “Sorry!” he says the minute he opens the classroom door. “Sorry!” he adds, for good measure.

Allison looks up from her phone and offers him a tired smile. “That's okay, Derek. Just try not to let it happen again, all right? They're tired.” She nods at the twins, who've fallen asleep cuddled together, Matt's head on Julia's shoulder. It's fucking adorable.

Derek immediately looks so guilty that Stiles wants to wrap him in a blanket and offer ice cream. “Sorry,” he says again, and shit, _so many manners. All the manners._ This shouldn't be allowed.

“It's all right,” he says before Allison can. “There's no need to wake them up, I'll help you take them to the car?”

Derek nods gratefully at him, and wow, he's looking directly at Stiles and _his eyes are so pretty_. And – are those _bunny teeth_? “Thanks, uh,” he stops, and looks expectantly at him.

“Stiles,” he supplies. “I'm Stiles, nice to meet you. These kids are _angels_ ,” he says, lying through his teeth.

Derek snorts. “Nope.”

“Nope,” Stiles agrees with a laugh.

He can feel Allison rolling her eyes at him but he doesn't care because Derek's just picked up Matt and is patting his back and Stiles cannot handle this, seriously. He looks away, hiding a smile, and picks up Julia, who immediately snuggles into him and rests her head on his shoulder. He freezes, but she mumbles something and settles again.

Derek's looking at him a bit funny, and Stiles swallows. The moment passes before any further awkwardness can ensue, though, and Derek says, “Uh – let's go?”

“Yeah,” says Stiles. “Okay.”

“There will be talking later,” Allison whispers to him on his way out. He doesn't care.

He settles Julia next to Matt in the back of Derek's Camaro, and straightens. “So,” he says, not knowing what to do next.

Derek offers him a soft smile. “Thanks for helping out with them. Once they're asleep it's really hard to wake them up.”

“Figured that out by myself at nap time,” Stiles informs him. “She threatened to chew my arm off at the shoulder.”

Derek looks mortified. “What – I'm gonna be having a talk with her,” he mumbles.

“No, don't do that!” exclaims Stiles hastily. “She's just a kid, it's all, you know, fun and games.”

“You say that now,” deadpans Derek, “but what about when she kills you in your sleep.”

It takes Stiles a moment to realize it's a joke, and then he bursts out laughing. Derek cracks a grin too, and holy shit why doesn't Derek Hale smile, like, _all the time_ , he is the actual embodiment of sunshine and rainbows.

The laughter dies down in a few moments, and Stiles grins at Derek. “So,” he says casually, deciding to go for it (what's he got to lose, anyway, right?), “you, uh...” he stops, racks his brains for a suitable line that'll go over smooth. “You come here often?”

In the abrupt silence that follows Stiles wishes the earth would open up and swallow him, all traces of mirth vanishing. _Do you come here often_. God, how fucking _embarrassing_. OF COURSE HE COMES HERE OFTEN. HIS KIDS GO HERE. GOD, STILINSKI _._

Great, his fucking thoughts are in caps lock now. Stiles just wants to disappear.

To his surprise, though, Derek doesn't laugh at him, or roll his eyes and scoff, or just insult him and leave. He just grins, and nods. “Yeah,” he says, like it's not weird at all. “Yeah. Every day, actually.”

Stiles heaves a sigh of relief. “Can we just pretend the last minute didn't happen at all?” he asks weakly, shaking his head at himself. Just because Derek's being a complete sweetheart about it doesn't mean it wasn't fuckdamn embarrassing in the first place.

“If you say so,” Derek says, but he's still smiling. It's not a mean, _I'm totally laughing at your lame ass_ smile, but a nice one, so Stiles lets it slide.

“So,” he then says, “I'll be on my way?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Stiles, and steps away from the car. “Uh – drive safe, I guess?”

“Will do,” promises Derek, and gets in the car. “See you tomorrow.”

Stiles waits till Derek's car has left his line of vision, and then thrusts a fist victoriously in the air. He's just about to raise his hand and do it again when something closes around his wrist, and he turns to see Allison standing there glowering at him. “You hit on the hot dad!” she accuses.

“I did say I would, you know,” Stiles reminds her, unable to keep the grin off his face. Derek Hale, an Actual Hot Person, did not completely humiliate him despite his pathetic attempt at being smooth. Derek Hale, Actual Hot Person, actually said “see you tomorrow” to _him_. Derek Hale, Actual Hot Person, _might actually be interested in him_.

“You do realize you're talking out loud?” asks Allison, and he blinks at her, feeling his entire body flush.

“Wha – really?”

“Yes,” she sighs. “Now come in and help me clean up.”

“I don't see what's wrong with hitting on the hot dad,” Stiles remarks, when they're arranging the desks and chairs back in order. “He's single, it's not like I'm hitting on a married man.”

“How do you know he's even into you?” Allison questions, gathering up paper and pencils.

Stiles stops in his tracks. “I don't,” he finally confesses, “but at least he didn't tell me to go fuck myself on a cactus and die, which, trust me, is a huge improvement from the last time I expressed interest in someone.”

“I just... don't want you to get your hopes up,” she says softly, making eye contact. “I know we haven't exactly been friends for a long time, but you're my boyfriend's best friend. You're important to Scott. So you're important to me.”

He offers her a smile. “Well, if it makes you feel better... I'm used to rejection at this point. Even if he says no, I'll handle it. No big deal.”

The expression on her face is unreadable. “Okay, Stiles,” she finally says, and goes back to her pencils.

* * *

“...and then he totally said 'see you tomorrow' and drove off,” Stiles finishes, gesticulating wildly. “Like – that's got to mean he's interested, right? _Right_?”

Scott and Liam look at him warily. “Uh, you might want to give it some time,” Liam says. “And calm down, you're endangering my sandwich.” He moves his plate out of Stiles's reach.

Stiles throws him a dirty look, and then turns to Scott. “Well?” he demands.

“I don't know, Stiles,” Scott says diplomatically. “You've literally interacted with him for five minutes. I think Liam's right, you should give it some time. I mean – he might not even be into dudes.”

They're sitting in the corner booth of the coffee shop where Liam's best friend Mason works, munching on sandwiches and discussing Stiles's latest dating predicament. It's late afternoon, and the sky outside is a pretty pink-orange color that Liam's looking at intently, before going back to the sketchbook by his plate and scribbling with colored pencils.

“But if he wasn't into dudes, he wouldn't have expressed interest, right?” argues Stiles.

Scott sighs. “I think you're reading too much into it, buddy. He literally just talked to you about his kids and said 'see you tomorrow', which is a very normal thing to say. We say it to each other all the time!”

“You didn't hear him, Scotty!” exclaims Stiles, and this time when he waves his hand he _does_ knock Liam's sandwich right out of his hands. Completely indifferent to Liam's noise of irritation, he goes on, “It wasn't a _let's be friends and nothing more than that_ kind of 'see you tomorrow'! It was... totally different!”

“Okay Stiles,” Scott says, evidently giving up. He bites into his sandwich. “If you say so.”

Stiles huffs. “Damn straight I say so.”

“Okay Stiles.”

“Okay Scott.”

“You're both idiots,” Liam interjects.

“Shut up, Liam,” they both say in unison. At least that's still the same, then.

* * *

Derek's only six minutes late the next morning, which is acceptable to Stiles but not so much to Allison, who gently tells him off again. He looks embarrassed, especially when Julia and Matt start sniggering at him. Stiles tries shushing them but immediately stops when they both turn to look at him like they wish him death. He is seriously scared of these kids and it's terrible.

He's abruptly snapped out of his reverie when Derek says, “Hello, Stiles.”

He blinks, mainly because he can _not_ believe that Actual Hot Person Derek Hale is saying hi to him of his own volition. He can almost feel Allison rolling her eyes in his direction. “Hello,” he says, somewhat faintly.

“Try not to die today,” Derek says, and there's a ghost of a smile on his face.

Stiles nods. “Right. Uh well, you'll have to ask your kids not to kill me then.”

A strange look passes over his face and he opens his mouth as if to say something, but right at that moment Allison all but pushes him out the door. “Have a nice day, _Mr. Hale_ ,” she says firmly, and then turns to glare at Stiles.

“What?” he tries, holding his palms out in what he hopes is a placating gesture. “He totally talked to me first.”

“Whatever,” she sighs, and turns back to the class.

* * *

It slowly becomes a routine – Derek drops his kids off, always late, but arrives early enough that they don't fall asleep. He always says hi to Stiles, and makes snarky comments about surviving his children. It's more of a running joke than anything else, really – they're precocious kids but not the kind that Stiles would refer to as “scheming spawn of Satan” (yes, he's had to refer to kids like that before. Not in front of their parents, obviously).

The first month of kindergarten passes in this easy, laidback manner. Stiles wishes he had the balls to ask for Derek's number or at least talk to him beyond “here's hoping your children don't violently murder me when my back is turned”, but it's not happening. So he resorts to dodging Sara Boyd's surprise tickle attacks, and keeping an extra fire extinguisher handy in case Leo Whittemore gets up to one of his little pranks again. Meanwhile Scott and Liam patiently listen to him describing various aspects of Derek's fine anatomy in painful detail, and Allison just sighs and massages her temples every time she sees him stare at Derek.

In a nutshell; he pines from afar and his friends either ignore it or tell him to get a move on. Par for the course, really.

Until one day, Liam suggests something so horrible it might actually work. They're at the coffee shop – Scott's texting Allison and Liam's browsing through some app on his phone while Stiles tries to see if he can recreate Derek's face with sugar packets. He's not really having much success.

“I got it!” Liam shouts triumphantly just as Stiles finishes outlining Derek's face. “I've got the perfect solution!”

“To what?” asks Stiles irritably; Liam's abrupt yell made him accidentally rip a packet open, and now there's sugar everywhere, all over Derek's face. Scott doesn't even look up from his texting.

Liam holds out his cell phone for Stiles to see. It's a tumblr post – on pick-up lines. The worst Stiles has read, he thinks.

“I sincerely hope you're joking,” he says flatly when he's done, leveling an unimpressed look at Liam. “There is no way I'm even going to say any of these out loud. He'll never talk to me ever.”

“Aw come on,” Liam says, trying to sound cajoling and just ending up sounding whiny. “What's the worst that could happen? He'll think you're a complete dork. In a totally cute way, of course,” he appends hastily at the look on Stiles's face.

“Fuck no,” says Stiles vehemently, shaking his head. “ _No_ , Liam. Just no.”

“You've got nothing to lose,” and oh perfect, _now_ is when Scott decides to join in, why the hell not?

“Except for my dignity, yeah, and there's very little left of that anyway,” snaps Stiles. “I'm not doing it, okay?”

Liam sighs in a very put-upon manner and puts away his phone. “Fine,” he says, and goes back to browsing, completely ignoring the glares Stiles sends in his direction.

* * *

Stiles ends up doing it.

In retrospect he will put it down to lack of sleep (he was up all night marathoning _How to Get Away With Murder_ ) combined with utter exhaustion from work (Leo set his desk on fire somehow). That, plus the fact that Derek's dressed semi-formally when he comes to pick up the twins on Friday. And shit, but he looks amazing in a button-up.

“Sorry, by the way, for being late again,” he says with a grimace when he sees Julia and Matt asleep in a corner of the play mat. Stiles is sitting in between them, the kids leaned up against his sides.

“It's fine,” Stiles says, quietly so as not to disturb the children. “They only just fell asleep.”

Derek shakes his head, still looking apologetic. Allison's given up trying to talk to him; it's obvious he's only got eyes for Stiles, which is very flattering and all, but the way Derek's looking at him makes him all warm and melt-y inside, and that's not very convenient right now. He's pretty sure his face is flaming.

“Help me get them to the car?” he asks Stiles, who nods.

“Of course.”

Derek offers him a relieved smile that he wants to kiss (but totally doesn't for obvious reasons), and bends to pick up Julia. Stiles totally doesn't notice how his muscles move under his shirt, or the curve of his perfect butt. He _doesn't_.

He waits till Derek's standing, then clears his throat a little awkwardly and gathers Matt up. Derek helps him to his feet carefully, and he's looking at Stiles in a totally weird way that's making him heat up all over again, feeling like he's being x-rayed. Self-consciously, he tugs at the hem of his plaid shirt with his free hand and says, “Um.”

So eloquent. Wow.

“Right, uh, okay,” Derek says, just as eloquently, and behind him Stiles can see Allison roll her eyes. He'd almost forgotten she's there. She mouths _you two are clearly made for each other_ at him, and he raises his eyebrows in a gesture that he hopes says _we're having words later_.

“So I actually wanted to talk to you,” Derek says the minute they're outside, and Stiles almost chokes on thin air. Why does Derek want to talk to him? What did he do? He's pretty sure he hasn't wronged Julia or Matt in some way. Even if that was the case they'd probably get their revenge themselves, not make their dad do it for them–

“It's not about the kids,” Derek says hastily, and Stiles pauses his internal freak-out. “It's not the kids,” Derek repeats, to assure him. Oh great, his freak-out probably showed on his face and now Derek thinks he's a total loser. If he didn't think that already, that is.

“Oh. Right.” He coughs awkwardly, and sets Matt down in the back of the car next to Julia. “Er, what about?”

“Well, see, my family's having a barbecue this weekend,” Derek explains, leaning against the side of the car, and shit, but doesn't that look extra hot. Stiles resists the urge to dramatically fan himself, but it is _so_ an appropriate moment for such a gesture. He forces himself to pay attention to Derek's words and not the firm, graceful lines of his body against the quiet power of the car. Damn, but Stiles would love to explore Derek's _quiet power_ –

“...invite you,” Derek's saying, and Stiles blinks.

“Sorry?”

To his utter surprise, Derek flushes a deep red. “I mean, I understand if you don't want to come, but – you know. Just thought I'd ask.”

“Ask _what_?” Stiles says, feeling utterly confused. Damn, he should have listened, instead of fantasizing about Derek Hale and his–

Okay. Stopping now. Before he gets a very inappropriate boner.

Derek actually looks horrified. “Oh God, it was hard enough to get out the first time,” he groans quietly. “Okay look,” he says, and looks Stiles right in the eye, and holy shit, _what color is that????_ “My family's having a barbecue tomorrow, and my mom says it's all right to bring guests, and I was thinking maybe you could come. I mean.” He rubs the back of his head in a very awkward, very _cute_ gesture. “The kids like you. And er, so do I.” The last part is very quiet; Stiles has to strain to catch it.

“You what.”

Okay, maybe it's not the most eloquent response.

“Like I said, it's okay if you don't want to come,” Derek repeats, but he looks crestfallen, and shit shit shit Stiles has totally fucked this up–

“What, _nooooo_ ,” he says, and he just _knows_ he's going to end up rambling. “No man, it's fine, I'll come, it's just – why me?” He's aware how pathetic it sounds. Ground, any time now.

Derek flushes even brighter, if that's even possible. “Uh... the kids and I really like you?” he offers, not looking at Stiles.

Stiles gapes with his mouth open in what he's sure is a very unattractive expression. “Let me get this straight,” he says, still staring. “You want to invite me to a barbecue with your family. Because you and your kids like me.”

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it again and nods simply.

“Is this like a date or something?” It's out of Stiles's mouth before he can stop himself.

Derek shrugs. It's like all his words have vanished. Pity. What an amazing voice the man has.

Seriously, how is this even a question? Stiles nods. “Yeah. Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he repeats for good measure.

Derek's head snaps up to look at him in surprise. “Really?” he asks, and confusion is a very cute expression on him. Most expressions are, Stiles has observed.

Stiles nods. “Yeah, really. What time?”

“Be there by eleven, noon max,” Derek tells him, and good, his words are back. Stiles is a fan of Derek's words. And Derek's everything, to be honest. “You know the preserve, right?”

“Yeah, who doesn't?” Stiles replies. “Okay. I'll, uh, be there.”

“And, um, you can bring Luke if you like,” Derek says. “In fact, please do. Maybe he'll make friends with the kids.”

Stiles gapes again. Really, this has got to stop. “I've only mentioned Luke like, _twice_ to you!”

Derek shifts a little uncomfortably. “Well, I have a good memory,” he says. “Just bring him, okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles concedes. “I'll bring Luke. Eleven?”

“Eleven,” Derek confirms. “See you.” He offers Stiles a smile, _holy shit holy shit he's smiling at Stiles_ – and Stiles returns it, hoping he doesn't look like a complete and utter fucking idiot.

He waits till Derek's car is out of his sight before punching the air and whooping, and rushing in. Allison looks up from her book just in time to be rushed by Stiles, who hugs her and smooches her forehead.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asks with a small grin, wiping her forehead.

Stiles grins goofily back at her. “It's exactly what you think.”

She snorts. “About time. I don't think it's appropriate to radiate so much UST in a room full of small children.”

“You're terrible,” Stiles accuses, but he's still grinning.

* * *

“HE ASKED ME OUT!” Stiles shrieks at Liam and Scott that evening at the coffee shop. “HOT DAD ASKED ME OUT!”

People are staring and Mason is outright laughing his ass off, hunched over the counter, but Stiles gives no shits. “DID YOU HEAR?” he yells again.

“Yes, we did, shut up,” Liam groans.

“Did he really?” Scott asks interestedly once Stiles settles, still with the foolish grin on his face.

Stiles nods excitedly. “Yeah, his family's having a barbecue and he said that his kids like me and he does too so I should come and at first I was like _very_ confused because I mean come on _who in their right mind would ask me out_ but then he got all flustered and it was cute as hell and then I said yes I'll go.” He takes a deep breath.

Scott blinks. “Did he _say_ it's a date?”

“Well, he kinda just shrugged when I asked,” Stiles tells him. “It's a date, okay,” he adds in a warning tone when Liam opens his mouth. “ _It's totally a date._ ”

“Okay, okay, Jesus,” Liam mutters, and bites into his sandwich. He's not drawing today, instead opting to just throw looks at Mason from across the coffee shop when he thinks no one's looking. Stiles would laugh at him if he didn't know how much pining really fucking sucks.

“I'm really happy for you, Stiles,” Scott says earnestly, with a huge grin. “This is awesome! Maybe you guys can double-date with me and Allison some time!”

“Hey, it's not gotten that far yet,” Liam cautions, looking away from Mason. “Who knows, Stiles could totally fuck it up.”

Stiles glares at him. “Yeah, thanks.”

“I'm kidding,” Liam says with a grin. “Go rock his socks off.”

“One time he came in flip flops,” Stiles says, grinning dopily. “He has really nice ankles.”

Liam chokes on his sandwich, but Scott has a similar look on his face. “So does Allison. And her knees are really nice too.”

“I really fucking hate you two lovestruck fools,” grumbles Liam.

"Shut up, Liam," say Stiles and Scott in unison. Liam flips them off and goes back to ogling Mason's butt.

* * *

Stiles will never tell anyone, but he spends around an hour looking through his closet, searching for something to wear that will look appropriate at a casual Saturday afternoon barbecue. Luke spends this time running around the apartment, not giving a shit about Stiles's predicament. Stiles envies him – he's not the one who's facing a dilemma right now, and he won't be for a few years yet.

He finally decides on black jeans that make his butt look good, according to Erica, and a red plaid shirt Scott had gotten him as a gift. He spends another fifteen minutes carefully fixing his hair, and tops it all off with a liberal spraying of perfume. Finally he looks at himself in the mirror, then at Luke. “You think this'll do it, buddy?”

Luke just stares blankly at him.

Stiles sighs. “All right. Noted. Come on, let's go. And _behave_ , ya hear?”

He arrives just five minutes after eleven, and rings the doorbell nervously, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. The door is opened a few moments later by a tall, pretty brunette. “Yes?” she asks politely.

Stiles holds out the wine he'd gotten on the way. “Um, Stiles? I'm Derek's guest?”

“Oh!” she says, evidently recognizing the name. “ _You're_ Stiles! He won't shut up about you! And look, aww!” she cooes at Luke.

Stiles is still stuck on the “he won't shut up about you” part. “What?”

She laughs. “I'm Laura, his sister,” she tells him, taking his arm. Luke takes his chance and runs off into the house, ignoring Stiles's half-hearted protests. “And for real, he doesn't shut up about you _at all_. It's really annoying, to be frank. But you're not half-bad!” She winks at him.

He flushes. “Uh... thanks,” he mumbles.

She leads him through the house and out to the back, where a _lot_ of people are milling about. The smell of steak is strong in the air, and Stiles's mouth waters. He hasn't had anything to eat for fear of throwing it up due to nerves.

Laura leads him over to an older brunette who looks a lot like her. “Mom, this is Stiles,” she introduces with a wide smile. “Stiles, this is our mother Talia.”

“Hi,” Stiles greets nervously. “Thanks for having me.”

“You're welcome,” Talia Hale says warmly. “You're Derek's guest, right?”

Stiles nods. “I hope it's not too much trouble.”

“It's not,” Talia tells him with a smile. “If anything, I'm glad he's invited you. He's not usually good with people.”

“I kinda got that,” Stiles says with a grin.

“Oooh, who's this?” says yet _another_ brunette, walking over holding a raw steak in her hands, unmindful of the blood staining her hands.

“Stiles,” Laura tells her brightly. “Stiles, this is our youngest sister Cora.”

“You're Derek's boyfriend!” Cora grins. “Aren't you?”

Stiles flushes again. “Um... no. I'm the TA in Julia and Matt's class.”

He's saved from further interrogation when Derek comes over and disengages Stiles from Laura's hold. “Stop tormenting him,” he tells his sisters flatly.

“Ooh, bossy,” Cora says, rolling her eyes.

Laura winks, taking Cora's arm instead and beginning to drag her off. “Well, I'll leave you two to it, then.”

“You made it,” Derek says to Stiles with a shy smile once they're left alone.

Stiles nods and smiles back, just as shy. “Uh. Yeah. I got wine.”

“You didn't need to,” Derek says, “but thanks. I'll show you around?”

“That'd be nice,” Stiles says.

Derek introduces him to his dad, a few aunts and uncles, some kids Julia and Matt's age, and his vaguely creepy uncle Peter. Stiles says hello and waves to all of them. In between he catches glimpses of Julia and Matt, playing with Luke and chasing him everywhere.

“Hey, I don't see Luke anywhere,” Derek comments, once the introductions are done. His dad and Peter are manning the grill, so he's got some time to himself.

“What do you mean, he's right there,” Stiles says, confused.

Derek looks over to where Stiles is gesturing to. “That – that's a cat,” he says, nonplussed.

“Yeah, of course that's a cat,” Stiles says, just as perplexed. “Luke is my cat. You said to bring him, so I did.”

“What?” says Derek. “Luke is a... _cat_?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “What did you think he was?”

“I thought he was your son,” Derek tells him, and there's that adorable confusion.

Stiles gapes. “You thought... that my cat is my son.”

“It sounds stupid when you put it like that,” Derek protests, his ears turning red, “but you never really specified his species, you know. And you always sounded like such a proud parent when talking about him, oh God, he's a fucking _cat_.”

Stiles can't help it; he bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, you thought Luke's my _son_!”

“Shut up,” mutters Derek, his entire face red now. “ _You_ think Julia and Matt are my kids, okay.”

Stiles stops abruptly. “What do you mean?” he asks abruptly.

“Julia and Matt... are _Laura's_ kids,” Derek clarifies, and oh great, now _he's_ laughing at _Stiles_. Cruel, cruel karma. “You always kept referring to them as mine and I didn't know how to correct you without making you feel like an idiot.”

“I feel like a bigger idiot now,” Stiles mutters, going red too. “Fuck. Laura's kids. _Of fucking course_.”

Derek's grinning, though. So maybe Stiles can live with the _utter fucking embarrassment_ of it all. Then again – “ _You_ thought my cat was my son,” he repeats.

“We're both idiots,” Derek decides, his eyes sparkling, and Stiles melts a little inside.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and grins. “We are.”

“So,” Derek says after they spend a few minutes staring goofily at each other. Really, for real. Actual goofy staring. In Stiles's defense, Derek is _really_ pretty, so it's not really Stiles's fault that he can't help himself. “Is this... a date?” The question is tentative.

Stiles grins wider. “Not officially, no.”

“What would make it official, then?” Derek asks solemnly. “I mean, we've already clarified that neither of us has kids, but you have a cat. In my book, that makes us butt-buddies already.”

“Did you really just say 'butt-buddies'?” questions Stiles in disbelief, and then begins laughing. “Oh God, you did!”

“I did,” Derek agrees, and smiles, and wow, Stiles really likes this. This banter, and all the smiling... it's _really_ nice. Derek's entire body changes when he laughs – less tense, much more relaxed, and Stiles fucking loves it, loves the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and holy _shit_ he is in _so fucking deep_.

“So what makes this official?” asks Derek when they're done laughing.

Stiles's grin widens. If Scott were here, he'd say this is the kind of grin that would make him suspect that Stiles is up to something. “Let me ask you out,” he says.

Derek shrugs, but he's smiling, pleased. “Sure. Go on ahead.”

Stiles clears his throat, and says, “Okay. Here goes. Roses are red. Violets are blue. Guess what? My bed has room for two.”

Derek stares for at least a minute before asking, deadpan, “Did you really just say that?”

“Hey, if you didn't like it, I got more,” Stiles says.

“Do tell,” snorts Derek drily.

Stiles grins. “Sure, why not? Just remember, you asked for it.” He takes a deep breath, and says, “Twinkle twinkle little star... we can do it in a car.”

Derek bursts out laughing, and _wow_ , that laugh. That fucking laugh. Stiles could happily listen to it for the rest of his life. “You just bastardized a rhyme I'm supposed to be helping the kids learn,” Derek accuses when he's back under control. “How am I supposed to say it now without laughing my ass off?”

Stiles just grins cheekily.

“Oh, it's like that, is it?” murmurs Derek. He leans forward, and Stiles automatically shivers as he feels Derek's breath ghost across his ear and the side of his neck. “Row, row, row your boat,” Derek whispers in his ear, and Stiles's arm breaks out in goosebumps, holy _shit_ that is not a tone of voice he's heard from Derek before. All low and deep and _sexy_ , shit, if Derek keeps this up there'll be _something_ else popping up real soon. “Gently down the stream... merrily, merrily, merrily merrily – I can make you scream.”

And _yep_ , there'll be that boner soon. But despite that, Stiles can't help but laugh either, grabbing on to Derek's shoulder to stop himself from toppling over in his mirth. “You – I'm supposed to be _teaching_ them that, you fucker, who's bastardizing rhymes now?” he says when he can breathe again.

Derek gives him a smug smirk. “You started it.”

“I did, but it was for a good cause!” protests Stiles.

Derek snorts. “Making this an official date is your idea of a good cause?”

“It's my idea of an _excellent_ cause,” Stiles tells him solemnly.

“Good,” smiles Derek. “I think I can get behind this cause.”

“There are a lot of perks,” Stiles informs Derek, still with the serious tone. “For instance, _this_.” He gestures up and down himself, and feels himself go red when Derek follows with his eyes.

“Yeah, I'm definitely getting behind this cause,” Derek decides.

“And behind something else too, if you catch my drift,” Stiles says with a wink.

“Your drift has been caught,” Derek informs him, and _seriously_ he is perfect and Stiles is _so_ going to go look up the ancient deity of hot not-dad crushes and offer them a ritual of gratitude.

* * *

Derek ends up walking him to his car in the evening, both of them stuffed with steak and other barbecued goodies. Stiles thinks he's going to go home and collapse and not get up until he absolutely has to. Luke is trotting some distance behind them, followed by Julia and Matt, who absolutely love him.

“You should keep coming over,” Derek says to Stiles. “Today was nice.”

“It was,” Stiles agrees. “But you gotta take me to dinner or something, okay, our next date should not involve me chasing my cat around after he accidentally set a tablecloth on fire. And there should definitely be no Uncle Peter involved,” he adds with an involuntary shiver.

Derek smiles, and Stiles catches a glimpse of his bunny teeth. “All right. Lobster Shack, next Friday, dinner? No Uncle Peter,” he adds.

Stiles grins back at him. “Yeah, okay. And just so you know,” he adds with a wink, “I don't put out until the third date.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but before he can say anything Julia pipes up, “What's putting out mean?”

“Nothing,” Derek and Stiles say in unison.

“If you're having dinner, can I come too?” asks Matt.

“No, buddy, you won't like lobster,” Derek tells him. “They're big and icky.”

“So why are _you_ going to be eating them?” inquires Julia.

“Stiles likes weird and icky things,” Derek says solemnly.

“Is that why he likes you?” asks Matt innocently, and dodges out of Derek's reach before Derek can grab him and tickle him into submission.

Stiles crows with laughter. “Yes, actually,” he replies to Matt. “But your Great-Uncle Peter is the ickiest of them all.”

Matt makes a face, but Julia frowns. “Bad move,” Derek whispers to Stiles. “She's Peter's little minion.” Louder he says, “Why don't you two go on back? Go help your mom clean up.”

“All right,” agrees Julia, and bends down to pat Luke. “Bye, Luke!”

“Bye, Luke!” Matt adds. “Can you bring him to class on Monday, Stiles?”

“I'll ask Miss Argent,” Stiles promises. “Bye, kids.”

Derek waits till they're gone, and then says, “Friday. Lobster Shack. It's a date.”

“It's a date,” Stiles confirms.

Suddenly Derek looks _very_ shy, half-turning away from Stiles. Wondering if he's said something wrong, Stiles frowns, but the reason becomes clear soon enough when Derek tentatively puts his hand on Stiles's arm and leans in. “Um, is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks uncertainly.

Stiles's brain completely short-circuits. Derek Hale, Actual Hot Person, wants to kiss him, Stiles Stilinski, of his own volition. _What is this life????_ He's pretty sure something really bad is going to happen to him on his way home, because there is _no fucking way_ he can have so many nice things happen to him in one day and not run shit out of luck.

Maybe he makes some consenting sound, he's not quite sure and he doesn't remember, but it's _totally okay_ because _Derek Hale is now kissing him_ and his lips and soft and warm and slightly chapped, and it's really light and hesitant but _holy shit this is the best thing in the history of ever_.

“Uh, was that... did I do something wrong?”

Derek's nervous words bring Stiles out of his stupor and he blinks. “What, _nooooooo_ ,” he assures, drawing out the last syllable. “That was awesome. My brain's actually kinda melty right now. It was _that_ awesome. We should do it again.”

Derek smiles in relief. “All right,” he says, and he's just leaning in again when there's a loud “ _HA!”_ and they both look around to see Julia and Matt pop up from behind the front door.

“I told you Uncle Derek likes Stiles!” Julia says triumphantly to Matt. “He kissed him!”

They both flush red. “I thought I told you two to go help your mom,” Derek mutters, trying and failing to look strict.

“Mommy doesn't need help, she said,” Julia says, and then pokes Matt in the side. Taking his cue, Matt begins singing loudly, “UNCLE DEREK AND STILES SITTING IN A TREE, K I S – uh, N G?” he ends uncertainly.

Stiles snorts drily. “Almost there, buddy.”

Matt looks pleased with himself.

“I will be having words with your mother,” promises Derek, still red. “Now _go on_ , before I decide to cancel your bedtime story.”

Julia sticks her tongue out at Derek, but leaves anyway, her brother in tow.

“Evil little devilspawn,” mutters Derek. “Laura needs to work on her parenting.”

“They're just kids,” Stiles says, amused. “And you love them.”

Derek sighs in resignation. “Yeah.”

Stiles opens the car door and gets inside, closing it and rolling down the window to look at Derek. “See you on Monday,” he says. “Don't be late, or Allison will have your head.”

Derek snorts. “Yeah, yeah. See you, Stiles.” He smiles as he says his name. Stiles waves, and drives away feeling like he's on top of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be _wonderful_.  
> [tumblr.](http://chester--bennington.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Love,  
> Remy x


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